


Switching Sides

by shopfront



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alternate Universe - Agent Carter Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Enemies to Lovers, Flirting, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-01 13:30:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16285490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shopfront/pseuds/shopfront
Summary: Julian doesn't want to be taken off the Damar case, but the alternative may prove more rewarding than expected.





	Switching Sides

**Author's Note:**

  * For [justanotherray](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherray/gifts).



“Come in,” Kira said without looking up from her desk. 

Julian’s brow creased as he entered the office. “Another one?” he asked, frowning. “But I already have my hands full with the latest Damar Industries case, and-“

Kira made a negative noise deep in her throat, holding up a hand to stop him as she finished writing something down. Then she put the pen down with a sigh and gave him an exasperated look. “And nothing. I give you a case, you hop to. Are we clear, Agent?”

“Right, it’s just-“

“No ‘just’s either,” Kira said. She leant back in her chair as she spoke and kicked her heels up on the desk as she rummaged in a drawer. Pulling out a stick of gum and shutting the drawer again, she continued to stare him down implacably. “You know and I know that Mr. Damar didn’t pretend to steal from himself this time anymore than he did with that vault. It’s a waste of everybody’s time, so I’m giving you something new. Besides. You’re the only one he’ll talk to.”

“Damar? Yes, I am, which is why-”

“I already told you, not Damar. We’ve got a very valuable turncoat on our hands, here, Bashir. And you’re the only one he wants to talk to.”

Julian’s mouth worked silently for a moment as he tried and failed to come up with a response to that. Rolling her eyes, Kira fished another file out of a pile on her desk and slid it across to Julian. Then she flicked it open and tapped one painted fingernail against a surveillance photo as she popped the gum in her mouth.

Elim Garak stared up at Julian from the photo, and Julian felt the sudden and urgent need to sit down. Fumbling behind him for one of the creaky chairs nobody ever bothered using, he collapsed into it with an ‘oomph’ and started paging through the file.

“Why me?” he asked a few minutes later, after he’d looked up to find Kira watching him closely.

“I was rather hoping you might be able to answer that question for me,” Kira said, chewing casually. Lost for words again, Julian shook his head helplessly, eyes darting back down to the file, and Kira sighed. “Okay, fine," she said. "Take that with you and study it. Let me know if you have any questions. You’ll be escorted to the safe house this evening, come to me for the details before you leave for the day.”

“I- Alright,” Julian said, gathering the file up as he stood.

“Oh, and Agent Bashir?” Kira called after him as he headed back to the bullpen.

Julian hesitated at the door, only turning back around reluctantly. “Yes, Chief?”

“Be careful. I remember the report about that Obsidian Order training school you found. Don’t trust him any further than you can throw him,” Kira said. Her eyes were flinty as she pressed her lips together in a tight line, and she waited a beat for him to nod in agreement. “Good, we’re agreed then. No heroics. Dismissed.”

*

Both the rest of his day and the trip to the safe house seemed to take three times as long as was strictly necessary. Julian resisted the urge to sigh and roll his eyes as multiple agents escorted him into the room where Elim Garak had been restrained. They all stood there, looking at each and glaring at Garak for a long moment before shrugging and filing back out when Julian gestured for them to do so.

As Julian shut the door behind them, he heard a faint clinking sound. Alarmed, he spun on his heel - but too late. Garak was already holding his handcuffs aloft, dangling them from a finger with a smug smile.

“Mr. Garak,” Julian said, lacing his tone with every ounce of steel he could muster.

“My dear agent,” Garak replied calmly as he waited a beat, then tossed the handcuffs onto the table next to him.

Julian shifted his weight slightly, trying to widen his stance without being obvious about it. But Garak saw straight through it. His eyes shot to Julian’s feet, and then back up to his eyes as he pouted slightly.

“Don’t you trust me, Agent Bashir? I don’t mean you any harm. I asked you here to speak with me under honest pretences, but I'm afraid those cuffs are dreadfully uncomfortable,” Garak said, still smiling. His expression stilled slightly when Julian didn’t return the expression. Then he reached slowly for the handcuffs, and held them aloft once more. “But I would be happy to re-attach my hand to the chair if it will make you more comfortable….”

Garak’s lips twisted when Julian nodded, but he did proceed to cuff his left hand to the chair handle as promised and Julian took a few more steps into the room once he'd heard them click shut. He moved just far enough to hook a foot around the leg of a second chair and drag it backwards towards himself, creating plenty of space between them before he sat down.

“Why did you ask to speak to me?” Julian asked as he crossed his legs and leant back in a mirror of Garak’s casual posture. He kept a careful eye on Garak, and an even more careful eye on the handcuffs - alert for any hint of further lock picking.

“Agent Bashir, I’m hurt,” Garak said, ignoring the question as he held his free hand to his chest in mock dismay.

“Save the theatrics, I don’t have all night. What did you want to talk to me about?” Julian asked. When Garak again failed to respond, Julian gritted his teeth.

“We’ve had some good times together, have we not?” Garak asked, before Julian could lose his temper.

“I- What? Oh, you have got to be joking,” he muttered.

“That kiss. It was quite something, wasn’t it,” Garak continued blithely, as if he hadn’t heard a word.

Julian frowned for a long moment, puzzled, and then snorted. “You’d painted your facial scales with a sleep-inducing compound. It was merely a ploy to knock me unconscious.”

“Certainly, my dear, certainly! But it was still _something_ ,” Garak said. His tone was pleased, warm with something that sent Julian's mind tumbling back to that day and he turned his face away to gather himself. When Julian finally gave into the curiosity and looked over again, he found Garak’s head tilted slightly as he watched Julian with a fond twist to his lips. “This would all be much easier if you only admitted it to yourself as well.”

Julian stared back at him for a long moment in silence. Eventually he shook his head, and wet his lips.

“There’s nothing to admit,” Julian said, shifting in his chair as he uncrossed his legs again. With a huff, he settled and narrowed his eyes as he leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Unless, of course, you’d like to tell me exactly why you’re here. We have you dead to rights, Mr. Garak. You might be able to slip those handcuffs whenever you choose, but you walked willingly into this safe house and it is now full of agents whose only job is to watch over you. So why don’t you stop trying my patience and tell me whatever it is that you came here to tell me!”

By the time he’d finished Julian’s voice had risen to a shout, and it was with a flicker of surprise that he realised he’d come to his feet somewhere in the middle of his tirade.

Garak didn’t looked bothered by the outburst, however. He simply smiled serenely up at Julian, and slipped a hand into his coat. Before Julian could think to reach for the door, Garak’s hand had already emerged again. This time holding a grainy photograph. His gaze was sharp when Julian met his eyes, their expression almost disapproving.

“Your trust in me is, as always, invigorating, my dear,” Garak murmured as he held out the photo.

Julian took it cautiously, holding it by the tip of a corner as he stared at it. “It’s blurry,” he said eventually, pulling a face. “I can’t tell what-“

“It's a photograph of an explosion, my dear. A very slow, very deadly explosion,” Garak said. All the light was gone from his expression now, and his voice was flat.

Julian just dropped the photo onto the table and threw his hands up, turning away to pace. “A slow explosion? What do you have for me next, Garak: a wet fire?”

“Nothing so titilating, I’m afraid. But I can tell you that this particular bomb is something of a sister device to one of your precious Mr. Damar’s little stolen experiments. Now twice as deadly and half the size, of course. All the better to transport it to locations where it can inflict maximum casualties.”

“Twice as…,” Julian said, trailing off in horror. Then he swung a suspicious look from the photograph back up to Garak. “I can’t make heads or tails of this image, how can you possibly expect this to convince me?”

“Do you think I would have walked into this safe house for anything less than a truth that could be verified?” Garak asked. “You are quite delightful, I will admit. But not quite that enticing, I’m afraid. But no matter, if you do not believe me than I need only wait out the week in comfort here in your charming little abode. Convincing photograph or no, I suspect you'll be back once the device currently en route to one of your big, fancy new American cities, arrives at its destination.”

Julian continued glaring, but Garak simply stared back at him and spread his free hand in an entreating gesture. They held the stalemate, eyes searching each others face, until Julian finally buckled and turned to rap loudly on the door.

“Don’t try anything,” he said sternly, sweeping up the photograph into his pocket as the door opened. “I won’t be going far.”

But Garak looked pleased once more. “Then I shall greatly enjoy the wait until your return,” he said, with a little bow of his head. Julian just huffed, and tried to avoid the eyes of the other agents as he left the room. He still didn’t know if he could trust Garak, but if there was any risk of an attack that big… it was at least worth looking into.

“My dear?” Garak called out into the hall as the door began to swing shut.

Julian nodded to one of the agents to halt the door for a moment, and shifted back slightly so Garak was again in his line of sight. He raised an enquiring eyebrow as Garak smiled serenely back at him.

“I do hope you’ll bring _something_ with you when you return,” Garak said slowly.

Julian huffed a breath out through his nose, swallowing a chuckle. "If your intelligence is good," he said, equally slowly. The other agents shifted around him, sharing uneasy looks, and Julian huffed again. "I will see you soon, Mr. Garak," he said, his voice heavy - with threat or innuendo, he wasn't even sure himself.

"I look forward to it, Agent Bashir," Garak replied, as the door clicked shut once more.


End file.
